


Drowning in the Fire

by yukasayu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Deviates From Canon, Drug Use, M/M, No happy ending here, Past Levi/Erwin Smith, Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukasayu/pseuds/yukasayu
Summary: The war is over, but not for Eren. The war will never be over for Eren, but at least the drugs numb the pain. Prostitution fic where Eren is alone and in pain after the war ends, Erwin is a manipulative little shit, and Levi has a dirty dirty mouth.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Drowning in the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> transferring all my FF.net fics here bc no one is on FF.net anymore. written in 2013 and not beta'd

When the war ended, humanity celebrated. The walls were ripped down, the corrupted government crumbled, and the villages expanded far out beyond the eye could see. It was glorious. Parents felt safe to bring their newborn children into a world free of monsters that feasted on human flesh and a new generation of humanity ushered in the new age.

War heroes were given generous retirement packages and honorable medals and then released out into the new civilization to do as they pleased. But not Eren. Hanji got promoted to a top-tier researcher for humankind, Erwin became head of the Military Police, and Levi opened a dojo specializing in the art of double swords. Everyone moved on. But not Eren.

How could he when Mikasa had died, knowingly throwing herself in front of a fatal blow to protect _him_ of all people? How could he when Armin had lost both his legs, fractured in a titans grip in so many places they were forced to amputate or risk a deathly disease seeping into the blonde's wracked body? The answer was he couldn't. The answer was that he hadn't expected to live past the war in the first place. Now that he had, he didn't know what to do with himself. There was no one left for him besides Armin and the doctors said he would barely last a few months if they were being hopeful.

When Armin finally let go of life, too tired and too heart-broken to keep holding on, it was a relief. Eren had spent as much time with him as he could but it was hard to look into someone's eyes when they were delirious and clouded over from pain and he was perfectly fine due to his monstrous regenerating capabilities. Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie— _everyone_ —had thrown themselves into the line of fire, running straight into the front lines of a seemingly hopeless battle knowing they could and probably would die or at the very least sustain horrible disfiguring injuries. But Eren was different. No matter what, he simply regenerated. His limbs grew back like it was nothing, scratches mended, bruises dissipated, and bones snapped back together. It was excruciating and agonizing and he had more injuries than everyone else in his squad put together, but at least his body grew back.

It was easy to jump into the fire when you knew you couldn't be burned.

Eren wished things could have ended differently, but they didn't, and the victory for him was a double edged sword. When everyone else was set free, he had been stomped down. A monster doesn't get a retirement plan. His retirement plan had been death in battle, or as a last resort by Levi's hands, but even that was taken away from him. The man had refused, it was no longer necessary.

So Eren lived a conflicted life, because hadn't he said he was going to eliminate all the titans? Hadn't he said he was going to exterminate _every last one_? And yet, here he was, a living, breathing, moving titan.

So Eren forgot.

He made himself forget.

With alcohol, with sex, with drugs.

He began to crave the sensual sensation of fireworks zipping through his veins, setting his body on fire and melting his mind. At first it was just this once and then it was just a few more times and then before he knew it it was a raging madness searing within him. It was a need, an incorrigible craving endlessly tormenting him. It was never enough.

It was like falling asleep on a deserted beach, slowly becoming surrounded by water as it trickled through his toes, around his arms, above his head. A maddeningly slow descent into the depths of the ocean until by the time that you noticed you were drowning, you were already fifty feet below the sea and the tide had risen to the point that it was impossible to find your way back.

And it was dark below the water, it was hard to breath. Every gasping inhale was like having his lungs carved out and replaced with solid weights, only dragging him farther down. Eren panicked, thrashing and flailing, trying to swim back up, but he only sank faster. So he stopped. He realized it was too late, and he had always had a death wish anyways. Giving up was easy.

So he picked up the needle once again.

And he was gone.

* * *

And that's where his corporal found him, prostituting himself in an alleyway in order to make money so that he could feel that sinking feeling again, again, again. He needed to drown to live, and Eren quickly found out that when he was numb it didn't really matter what happened to his body. It's not like he felt it, what with his mind melting and his brain so far disconnected he could barely remember his own name, much less that he should probably care that this was degrading or dehumanizing or self-destructive.

He was a nineteen year old man in the body of an inhuman boy, a decaying war hero beyond his peak, and he was a mindless prostitute.

Half the time he couldn't even remember what his own face looked like, but he _always always always_ remembered how much it would cost for him to buy his next hit and he _always always always_ remembered where to get the good stuff.

But sometimes forgetting got him in trouble.

The faces blended into one another and became one big mangled face and he didn't mind the distortion when it helped him dissociate from all the men abusing his body, but he minded when he couldn't tell the difference between those men and his captain. Although he didn't know it at the time, when he woke up the next morning in a pristine white bed in the cleanest room he'd been in since before the scouting legion had been disbanded with a stabbing headache, intolerable nausea, and his entire body feeling like he was hit with a semi, he solemnly decided that he had probably made a mistake.

Getting up on shaky legs, he promptly vomited his guts out in the toilet, washed his face off, and carefully descended the staircase next to his room into what appeared to be a dojo. There were students practicing in various parts of the room, using wooden swords to challenge each other, and it made Eren feel incredibly old when he realized he was capable of disarming all of them quite easily had that been his intention.

Leaning against the wall in attempt to help him stay standing Eren realized that he was suffering from withdrawals. He needed to find his dealer, and fast, because this was going to be extraordinarily painful and probably terribly humiliating if he didn't. Scanning the room, the brunette tried figuring out where he was and why on earth he was here instead of the streets which had become his home for the past few years. It was somewhat hard to make his brain work at the moment though, everything was hazy and disjointed, but then he caught a glimpse of a somewhat familiar face from the corner of his eyes and turned to see a very bored looking Levi staring at him with a penetrating look in his eyes from his seated position across the room.

And oh.

That was most likely a very not good thing, especially considering how he knew he had been walking the streets last night trying to make money. Though he didn't remember ever seeing the feisty captain, that didn't account for much. He knew he had been out of his mind last night on a pretty intense high and blackouts were a fairly common occurrence when he was like that.

Eren would have tried to sneak out at this point but upon scouring the room for exits he found that there was only one door and it led into what appeared to be a backyard. Also, this door was unfortunately placed all the way on the other side of the dojo and with all the students in the way Levi would probably get there before he did. The inherent instability his legs appeared to have adopted for the moment was definitely not helping. So, after a heavy sigh and a prominent gulp he turned his eyes to look back at his commander, who happened to still be staring straight at him.

A younger Eren would have blushed but he really didn't have much dignity left at this point. The brunette had been stared at before by much more intimidating people and in much more embarrassing situations. So he simply murmured a quiet, _'fuck it_ ' under his breath and hobbled his way over to where Levi was sitting.

Upon reaching the man, Eren slid down the wall he'd been holding onto for dear life, already tired from his walk down the stairs and over to the corner of the dojo.

"Sir," he said in greeting, eyes glued to the floor at his feet in slight shame as he sat crumpled next to the man's chair. He realized at this point that while the man could have very well seen him simply passed out or walking around, with Eren's luck, the brunette had probably propositioned him unknowingly. Which was quite embarrassing for multiple reasons. One, he had probably been really fucked up, as in _really fucked up_. Two, he hadn't even recognized the older man. Three, the things he had probably said while trying to convince the man to purchase him were unfortunately terribly whorish, if his past encounters with johns were anything to go by.

Although he wasn't sure any of this had happened, it was probably safe to assume the worst. And while he was thankful for the warm bed and the roof over his head for the night, he still really needed to leave. Withdrawals weren't his thing and he didn't plan on sticking around long enough to be forced into them.

Looking back up at the ravenette, who still had yet to acknowledge him besides a delicately arched eyebrow, Eren managed through his splitting headache to thank him for his hospitality and then attempt to excuse himself from the situation.

Instead of the ' _whatever_ ' he was expecting, the man sarcastically asked him if he was actually capable of walking at that moment and if he really wanted to leave _right now_? And come on Eren, it's eight in the morning, it's a little early for drugs don't you think? Which made Eren jump slightly because how had he known that's the brunette needed to leave for? He hadn't thought he was that obvious and his stomach twisted at the thought that every person in the room had most likely heard that. But when he whipped his head around—really not a good idea considering it almost made him puke all over the clean-freak's sparkling floor—he found that not a single head was turned their way.

Breathing out a sigh of relief through his nose Eren looked back around and searched the ravenette's face before letting out a weak, "Please, Captain?"

The man seemed to flinch slightly, and Eren wondered what that was about, before responding with a stern, "I'm not your Captain anymore Eren. The war is over."

But Eren didn't think so. The war had never ended for him. It may have switched to a new battlefield but he was always at war. He'd never not been at war, he didn't know what that was like, didn't know how to act when he wasn't fighting. That was all he'd ever been good at. He knew the grip of a sword, the angle to tilt a blade for the most effective hit, the trajectory he needed to aim his 3D maneuver gear in order to not slam into a wall or a tree or into a titan's mouth. He knew what it felt like to be covered in his comrades blood, to be inside a titan's stomach as acid slowly ate away at the bodies around him, to be on his back, legs spread, with a man pounding into him sweaty and unprepared.

Eren knew war.

What he didn't know was how to get out of this situation. He didn't know how to deal with people, especially this person. How do you say, 'Sorry I begged you to pay for my body, I just wanted to shoot up again _so bad_ ,' to someone you looked up to, respected even? How was he supposed to say that without completely disgracing himself in front of the only person left in this world that mattered to him? If this was Hanji or Erwin or any of the other soldiers who still happened to be alive—it was a short list—then he would have easily said all that and then just left. But with Levi...he couldn't.

So he said nothing and in his shame, he stood to leave. And Levi let him.

In a perfect world the older man would have stopped him, but this world was not perfect. This was not a fairytale, and this world was unnecessarily cruel and painfully unforgiving.

* * *

The next time he saw the man was almost half a year later. Half a year, hundreds of johns, and pounds of liquid heaven later. Eren was twenty now and he thinks Levi was probably about thirty-four if he remembers correctly. This time they met in a bar instead of the streets and Eren was not quite as fucked up.

Ever since the incident a few months ago where he woke up in the ravenette's house he'd been trying to get clean. It hasn't worked as well as he would have hoped, but he's at least at the point that when he sees Levi he recognizes him. The brunette almost wants to dash out of the bar and hope he hasn't been spotted but he forces himself to maintain his ground. Maybe the man won't even see him, he thinks. It is dark in the room and there is an immense amount of people. It's really more of a club than anything.

He's also hoping that the older man is drunk, seeing as they are in a bar, and therefor maybe Levi won't recognize _him_ this time. Almost everyone here is on something, after all. And most of them are looking for a quick fuck. Which brings up why Eren is here, that is, to offer his 'services' if anyone can afford them or has the right drugs to trade him with.

It's not a glamorous job, but it's better than when he was on the streets. At least he's pickier with who he lets buy him. Sometimes he even likes it. Really, Eren muses sarcastically, he's moving up in the world.

A few minutes after spotting Levi, and then promptly losing him in the crowd, he sees him again, this time with Erwin. The brunette wonders if the two are together or _together_. They could just be here as friends, wingmen even. Or they could be here as lovers. Eren doesn't even know if the two fighters are gay though. In fact, he was almost certain Erwin was straight. He'd actually thought Erwin was dating Hanji. But to be honest, the brunette hadn't been paying that much attention back then, what with the war and people dying and all, so he could have been wrong. For some reason it still hurts a little though, to see Erwin and Levi together.

Eren hadn't even known he liked the captain like that, but here he was getting just the tiniest bit jealous, so who knows. It could just be the alcohol and other things running through his system making him feel like that though. In combination with his raging depression and suicidal tendencies, thoughts like this weren't all that uncommon for him and he found himself wondering if he actually wanted Levi or if he was just wanting someone to be there. It was only human to want affection, he supposed.

But then he scoffed at himself, look at him sitting here thinking he was human, thinking someone like Levi could like someone like him. He was a monster, a disgrace. He was filthy, and Levi was all about cleanliness. How ridiculous a notion it was for a man of that quality to like a man of Eren's 'quality'. A hero and a whore. Ridiculous.

These thoughts really weren't helping though, so Eren quickly ordered another shot and downed it before getting up and walking in the opposite direction he had just seen the two other men in. Unfortunately, he should have known his luck wouldn't allow him to have his way, and just before he reached the exit he walked straight into Erwin's back which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Fucking shit," he cursed, rubbing his nose a little to alleviate the pain. He felt like he had just walked into a brick wall, with how built the blonde man was.

The taller man quickly turned around to apologize and ended up staring right at Eren, and then Levi popped out from behind him asking what had happened, and the brunette knew he was fucked.

He was just going to walk away and try to lose them in the crowd but when he backed up he ran into another man who upon seeing his face had smirked widely and said, "Well, hello there, sweetie! Up for another round tonight? I've got just the thing you've been looking for."

The brunette recognized him as the man who had traded him his drug of choice in exchange for his body a few nights ago. He really wanted to go with this man because the guy really did have exactly what he was looking for, it was good quality and he even tipped him a little extra if Eren went a second round.

But then he remembered who exactly was watching as this guy felt up his body and offered him such sweet temptations and though it was so very difficult to turn the man down he forced himself to say no. He probably could have been a little nicer and simply said not tonight, but he elbowed the John in the gut and pushed himself away snarling. He should have ended at that, but he was still an addict after all, so he pulled the guy back and whispered in his ear, "Maybe next time honey. I'll even give you an extra treat for waiting, hmm?"

The guy smirked and said a little too loudly for Eren's taste, "Fine, babe. I knew you liked it rough. That's pretty sexy, you better put those claws away when I'm fucking you though," before smacking his ass and walking away.

This all left Eren standing pretty awkwardly in front of his two greatest heroes in an outfit that was probably too skimpy to be considered respectful. He was pretty sure his eyes were sufficiently glazed over as well, it wasn't like he had come here sober after all, and that was not his first guy of the night. The two older men looked like they knew exactly what was going on so he didn't even try to play it off and just jumped straight into the next topic which unfortunately for him was, "So...you two here together or what?"

And fuck, he never was very good at keeping his mouth shut.

Thankfully neither seemed too offended, but Erwin did laugh a little before telling him that no, they weren't. His heart jumped a little at that but quickly tempered back down when the blonde then proceeded to ask him 'how much?' At first Eren thought he was asking his own prices, which was a little disturbing since it was **Erwin** , and he blanched.

But then Levi spoke up and snarkily said, "Your shirt, dipshit."

Which he then replied with the very distinguished answer of, "Eh?"

And the blonde must have taken pity on him because he point at a large stain and said, "You must have spilled your drink when you ran into me. Please allow me to pay for it to be replaced."

The brunette looked down at where the man had been pointing and flushed. He hadn't been carrying a drink and that stain was definitely not from alcohol. He was actually somewhat concerned for the blonde's eyesight if he thought that dried cum was alcohol. Either the man was incredibly sloshed or incredibly blind. Whichever way it was, the younger of the two felt bad about the man offering to pay for a new shirt when he hadn't caused the damage in the first place.

He didn't want to say what it actually was though, as that would be immensely embarrassing on his part, so he tried to blow it off, telling the commander not to worry about it. It was a shit shirt anyways. But the blonde was persistent and eventually Eren gave in and followed the two back to Levi's home—since it was closer—so that the shirt could be washed. He didn't mean to end up in this situation but by the time the conversation was over he realized the blonde had somehow swayed him into agreeing.

The brunette realized that this must be one of the reasons why he had been chosen to be the commander. He certainly was brilliant with words, and awfully manipulative, now that Eren thought about it.

Those were the thoughts running through his head as he sat at Levi's dinner table wearing one of the older man's shirts and sipping a cup of tea. The shirt was actually not too small on him and the brunette came to the realization that his body had never really gotten that big. He had a small build and Eren mused that this could have happened due to a variety of factors. Maybe transforming into a titan so often had affected his growth, or maybe it was the starvation and drug use which had stunted him? Or maybe it was just his natural form and he was never meant to have a large build in the first place. Whatever the case, he wasn't that much taller than Levi.

Speaking of Levi, the man was staring at him again, this time with an amused look on his face.

"That wasn't alcohol, was it?"

The man asked, causing Eren to choke and nearly spit out the tea he had just drank. Swallowing, he looked up at the man.

"So?"

The ravenette hummed and then took a sip of his own tea, his eyes flashing and looking at him pointedly before saying, "Erwin's not stupid."

Which Eren took to mean the blonde knew exactly what was on his shirt. But if he knew then why had he lied? Why had he brought the brunette all the way back to Levi's place to wash his shirt? It didn't make any sense. The confusion must have shown on his face because the captain put his tea down and turned in his chair to face Eren.

"He's looking out for you."

"But why?"

There was a pause for a moment before Levi answered and it looked like he was deciding what exactly he should say at this point. After a few minutes of tense silence the ravenette looked up and away, turning in his seat so as to not be looking at the brunette yet again.

"Because he's a manipulative little shit. And he likes to take in strays," he said and then after a quiet second added, "When I was around your age he found me prowling the streets, hurting people, hurting myself. You and I are not so different, I think. And he likes our type."

"Our type?"

The ravenette took another sip of tea and looked Eren up and down, humming.

"He'll try to save you, help you, whatever. And when you're back to being a shitty little shitcake again he'll sleep with you," and here his slate eyes flicked back up into the brunette's teal ones, "if you let him."

Noticing the younger man's horror he added, "Fuck Eren, he's not going to rape you, calm down. He justs wants to fuck you. If you say no he won't lay a single finger on your pretty little head. He's a bastard, but he's an honest bastard. Erwin's just a good guy with a saviour complex. And a huge dick. You won't be able to sit for weeks," he said with a smirk.

The brunette flushed and blinked, completely not expecting his captain to say that. If he had been drinking the tea he would have spit it back out again. Parting his lips he almost wanted to ask how Levi knew but then closed them again, thinking better of it. But the smaller man was watching him with amusement and he realized that he was being treated like an adult, unlike back when they were in the scouting legion. And oh yea, this man wasn't his captain anymore. He was just another guy—albeit an incredibly feisty and attractive one—and Eren wasn't a blushing virgin these days. He was allowed to say whatever the fuck he wanted to now. This wasn't his superior.

So he stopped freaking out, looked down and remembered that he was a twenty year old prostitute with an addiction problem. There were plenty of things in his life that he needed to be embarrassed about, but this wasn't one of them. Collecting himself, the brunette took a quiet breath and then looked back up with all the confidence of a man, a soldier, who knew exactly how desirable he was.

"Did you, Levi? Did you say yes?"

The man looked at him with his striking silver eyes and then opened his pink—Eren just noticed what an attractive color they were—lips and said, "Yes, once. But Erwin and I are better as friends. He's not really my type."

"Strong, intelligent, and handsome isn't your type?"

And then Levi's eyes flashed and he smirked in a way that could definitely be construed as seductive and smoothly said, "I like my men more my size. Erwin and I clash since we're both so...domineering. I can't hold him down and it's a little disconcerting trying to fuck a guy who's twice my size. Plus, he's more the stoic type and I like to bring a guy to his knees and make him beg for my cock," and then he was looking at Eren expectantly and oh.

He may have been a whore but holy shit, the brunette was blushing because this wasn't some strange sweaty man saying those things pervertedly into his ear, this was Levi and he was looking at Eren and he was just _so damn hot_ and ohhhhhh, Levi wants to fuck him.

And that particular revelation made him squeak a little and then slap a hand over his mouth to prevent any other completely embarrassing sounds from flying out. Looking to the side, eyebrows scrunched up slightly, Eren concluded that he wasn't sure whether to jump over the table and ride Levi like fucking stallion or hide in the corner. Both sounded pretty good at this point.

And that's when Erwin reentered the room and handed Eren a sandwich, which the brunette took with a slightly confused face and a scholarly sounding 'ummm', because he had a raging boner and the table was very definitely not hiding it.

The blonde looked down at him and Eren couldn't help but glance downwards at the man's crotch because the ravenette had just told him some pretty interesting information and judging by the bulge in the blonde man's pants he was not fucking lying. The man was definitely hung, and he wasn't even hard yet. The brunette realized he was ogling the taller man's crotch and stopped himself, snapping his eyes back up to see Erwin's very amused face and calculating eyes. The blonde had totally noticed he had looked!

And against his better judgement Eren was completely unable to stop another totally shameful squeal from escaping his lips. He was dying, no strike that, he was already dead. He let out a whine and slammed his head into the table very gracefully.

"You should probably eat that, you look quite hungry," Erwin said—and Eren couldn't help but notice the double meaning—before turning around and grabbing his coat and leaving with a, "Call me if either of you need anything, especially you, Eren. If you need someplace to stay, my door is open."

When he was gone the brunette looked up, catching Levi's eyes, and grumbling, "There's no way I could eat that. It's fucking huge."

And for the first time in his life the younger man heard the ravenette outright laugh because there was no way Eren was talking about the sandwich, not when it consisted of a slice of turkey and a light spread of mayo.

Levi's smile was possibly one of the most attractive things he'd ever seen, so after letting the man laugh for a good moment the brunette smirked and said, "Although I'm not opposed to a sandwich…" and then after letting that sink in he continued, eyeing the other man seductively, "I like mine with a bit more kick than that. This one seems a bit lacking in the meat area."

"...Well then, Eren, let me see if I can find you a bigger piece of meat to nibble on. I think I've got just the thing."

* * *

That should have been the end of it. But Eren wasn't Cinderella and one simply did not just walk off into the sunset and live happily ever after. In this life, the first thing he learned was that no one was ever going to save you. You had to save yourself. If you don't fight you die, if you don't play the game you can't win.

He'd taught that to Mikasa when he'd helped her kill the slave traders that had tried to kidnap and rape her. He'd taught that to Armin when he protected him, stood up for him, over and over and over. The blonde had never really learned that lesson as well as Mikasa had though. But he had outlived her, so Eren supposed that was something.

She'd almost made it to, dying a mere three weeks before the war ended. It pissed him off. Like, really? She couldn't have lasted three more fucking weeks? They had been **so** close, so painfully close.

But the brunette knew better. This world was cruel.

There were no knights in shining silver or fairy godmothers. The rich and beautiful don't fall in love with the dirty and the poor. People didn't reach down into the slums and help pull out the whores and the drug addicts and the lost children into the light. There were good people in the world, Eren was sure, but the only ones he had ever found were either dead or dying.

The world was not a fucking fairy tale.

And that's why Eren left the next morning. He hadn't slept with Levi. The brunette actually liked him and when sex was something you did for money, when sleeping around was your job, it sort of lost it's appeal. Sure, he liked the flirtatious atmosphere the two had developed but he was afraid. The man had only just entered his life and he wanted to keep him there. If they got into some kind of relationship it could jeopardize that.

So, instead of sleeping in, the brunette woke up early. He took a shower, ate breakfast, enjoyed a nice long shit, and walked out.

He was starting to feel desperate again, anyway. There was only so long he could go before the burning need came back.

He walked out of the house, down the dojo steps, out into the street, and then made his way back to the underground. He felt safer there, which was probably weird, but it was what he knew. Once he got back to the place he had stashed his bag the night before—it was never safe to keep it on you, especially while on the job—he pulled out the tin he kept his weed in. Taking out his bowl, he packed it, lit it, and inhaled. There was nothing better then a good wake and bake, and weed never hindered his ability to get shit done. It actually helped with the cravings.

After he was sufficiently high he made his way towards a nice little corner hidden away in an abandoned building and caught up on the sleep he had missed out on earlier that day.

* * *

Later that night Eren went out. He walked to the area he normally waited while trying to pick up johns and shoved himself into a little hidden alcove within an alley. The brunette quickly changed into an outfit that very much resembled the one he wore in the survey corps. He quickly found that men liked the illusion of dominating a soldier, especially in the underground where the military was not well liked.

His outfit consisted of fishnets and accompanying garters, thigh high black stilettos to imitate the brown boots soldiers wore, and black leather booty shorts. He also wore a skintight white shirt which ended shortly before reaching his hipbones and black 3D maneuver straps which criss-crossed across his entire body seductively.

Finishing off the outfit with black eyeliner, he promptly hid his bag, and left the alley.

Within the first hour he already had his first customer and had made enough money to feed himself. But it wasn't enough. He needed money for drugs, so he stayed a while longer.

Around one in the morning he decided to stop by the club he had been at last night. Hoping he would find the customer he had lost when Levi and Erwin appeared, the brunette wandered around the dimly lit dance floor.

Thankfully it didn't take too long to find the guy and remembering the promise he had made to the man the previous night, Eren sauntered smoothly up to him. He was tall and blonde with a beer gut and a scratchy untrimmed beard, but the former soldier pressed himself up against him like he was the sexiest, most desirable man he had ever laid eyes on.

"Hey baby, remember me? Let's go play together, I'll make you feel _real good_ ," Eren whispered into his ear.

"Sure sweet thing, but I'm bringing my friends along with me since you said i'd get something extra this time," the blonde replied, slapping his ass a little too roughly.

The brunette didn't like parties. They were dangerous and had the potential to turn south faster than Eren could handle. He was only one person after all, and despite his honed fighting skills there was only so much you could do when three or four grown men were on top of you and holding you down.

Normally, he would have said hell no and left it at that, but he _had_ promised the guy and this particular john was a repeat customer with the best drugs around and he'd never hurt Eren before.

The brunette led the blonde and his friends-Ivan and unfortunately for Eren, a guy named Jean, it seemed the name was pretty popular—out of the club and into a closed off alleyway beside it. He had intended to take care of business there but the customer said the drugs were in his car and therefor they needed to head that direction to make the trade.

Warning bells went off in his head, but he ignored them and followed the men. He was ansty without the familiar numbing liquid running through his veins and it was starting to cloud his judgement.

When he was shoved into the van and gagged the former soldier knew he had made a mistake. He tried to fight but a knife was held up against his throat and a pair of sturdy hands came to grip his wrists above his head while another pair, this one sweaty, forced open his thighs.

The shorts were the first thing to go, immediately followed by the maneuver straps since they had to come off to get the shorts down. Underneath he was wearing nothing but the inky black fishnets and garters. Eren's world jolted and time seemed to slow down.

It was cold and he shivered.

The men were eyeing him up and down and a constricted sensation started to make itself at home in his chest. Dread spiked through him as the knife was brought down to rip through and discard his shirt.

Something was injected roughly into his arm.

And then there were hands on him.

Sweaty,

meaty,

unwanted.

When the first guy entered him unprepared Eren screamed through the gag and thrashed wildly, still fighting to escape, but it only served to excite them further.

When the second cock squeezed into him alongside the other the brunette spasmed and for the first time during the whole affair his facade broke and he cried.

The hands gripping his thighs were dripping with perspiration and there was a foul breath ghosting over his face and all Eren could think was dirty dirty dirty _dirtydirtydirty_ _ **dirty**_. He didn't think he'd ever feel clean again, and in a rare moment of clarity the brunette wondered if this was why Levi was an obsessive clean-freak.

Maybe he felt dirty to.

That was the last truly coherent thought he had before everything just became a jumbled mix of pain and blood and _stop_. The mystery drug they had forced into his system was making him hallucinate. The dim lights outside the van flashed back and forth between red and green, making him sick, and the vehicle felt like it was spinning. He could feel his eyes rolling back into his head and every so often it felt he had stopped breathing.

Eren tried to maintain control, but just because he knew the shadow creatures hovering around him were just those men and even though he knew the blood dripping from the ceiling and the dark liquid pooling on the floor weren't real, it wasn't helping. It felt like his bones were melting.

He could feel his jaw disintegrating, he could feel his legs breaking, he could feel his hips molding around the stabbing cocks still embedded inside him.

The next few hours were a blur and when he came to in the morning he wasn't sure if he had slept or if his mind had just left for a little while. He didn't think he had slept and the memories…

He tried to look around him but he was in such excruciating pain that just moving his head an inch nearly caused him to scream out. He needed to get himself to a doctor but upon assessing his situation he found that not only was he clothes-less minus a pair of shredded shorts that were definitely not his and lying in a gutter, he was money-less as well.

Those assholes didn't even leave him with enough change to pay someone to take him to a doctor, much less actually pay for help once he got there.

To top it off the sky was a desolate grey from where he could see it through a hole in the concrete above and bits of rain were sneaking into the underground through the storm drains.

His regenerative capabilities had also been slowing down as the years passed. Perhaps the human body could only take the strain of such rapid cell growth for so long before reverting back to normal. He would never know.

By the time the midday sun was out the hallucinations had finally calmed down enough that he could tell that his bones hadn't really broken or disintegrated. Working through the pain, he managed to stand up. Walking hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt.

And he couldn't stop thinking it like a mantra…

_Dirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirtydirty_

He needed help, he knew. But there was no where he could go so he just wandered around hoping someone would help him. That was his first mistake, thinking people were kind, especially in the underground.

His second mistake was allowing his body to subconsciously drag him all the way to Levi's house. The trip that had taken him barely thirty minutes the day before took him three hours and he didn't reach the door to his corporal's living residence until the sun was hanging low in the sky and the clouds were tinged a macabre shade of orange-red.

His third and last mistake was expecting the man to be there.

He wasn't.

The battered brunette would have left but his legs had simply given out. He was unable to move another inch. Turning his back to the residence, he slid down the doorway and leaned back against the wooden frame. Looking down, he realized he was getting blood on the ravenette's porch. The older soldier was not going to appreciate that.

But he couldn't move, so he stayed there late into the night. Around two in the morning a small figure could be seen in the distance, slowly heading towards the house, though Eren didn't notice until he caught movement from the corner of his eyes.

His head had been tilted down and to the side but upon noticing another person he flinched weakly and sluggishly brought his head up to look at the figure.

Wide silver eyes stared hauntingly into his and he squeezed out a bitter sounding,

"Sorry, Captain...I made a mistake."

And then he blacked out.

* * *

When he started to come to he realized he was laying on the couch in the ravenette's living room. He could distantly hear voices and when he concentrated on them he could hear Levi saying things like, 'I was looking for him for _hours_ ," and "he showed up bleeding on my doorstep at two in the morning," and "he got _fucking raped._ "

He wasn't sure who the older man was talking to, but he didn't like it. The brunette didn't want people to know. It was humiliating, embarrassing, disgusting. Just the fact that Levi knew was damaging enough.

The elder soldier would know how _dirty_ he was.

Which reminded him, he had to do something about the fucking filth that was covering his body. The brunette tried to get off the couch and hobble to the shower but halfway there his legs gave out and he crashed.

He chewed out an anguished " _fuck_ ," nearly crying from the **angerfrustrationdisgustpain**.

One of the people must have heard the fall because he was suddenly being picked up from his fallen position against the wall by Hanji, of all people. The arms encircled around him should have been comforting but they weren't and he fought. Panicking he cried out and threw himself away from the person, practically snarling at the two people.

Hanji attempted to reach him again but before she could touch him he growled out, "Don't touch me. Do not _fucking_ touch me."

Breathing heavily he turned away from them and tried to crawl his way back up the wall but a hand stopped him. She was touching him. Holding his wrist. Like they did.

Trapped.

Cornered.

Desperate.

He screamed at her and jerked his wrist away with a vicious, "Let me go!"

She asked him, "where?"

And again his mind was overridden with the word.

Dirty.

He was dirtydirtydirtydirty—

"No! I need, I need to be..." he gulped, " _clean_."

But then she must have gotten a look at his eyes because she gasped and said, "You were drugged!"

Which was the wrong thing to say because it reminded him of the shadows and the lights and the melting bones and the blood dripping from the ceilings and the floors and the walls and **everything**.

He froze.

He eyes flew open wide and he wasn't seeing them anymore. Wasn't seeing Hanji looking at him with concern or Levi looking at him with a painful understanding. They weren't his top priority right now because his bones were being shaved off by some invisible force.

Eren quickly brought his hands up to check his ribs, to make sure they were there, and they weren't. His shoulders were sloping off and his face was sliding down and his jaw was disintegrating and he was panicking. He gripped his head and fell to the floor, whimpering.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

But it was.

It felt real. And what is reality if not one's perception of the world around them?

He could hear someone screaming and the sound was haunting. It sounded the way a person did when they were being bit in half by a titan. It sounded like Mikasa did as she flung herself in front of him and had her arms ripped off. It sounded like Armin as his legs were amputated. It sounded like Sasha and Connie and Jean dying all around him.

But then he realized it was him and he stopped, mid-scream.

Gasping he managed to pull himself enough to together to drag himself away from them.

"Eren, where are you going?" someone yelled behind his back.

"...to...to…"

To scrub the filth from his body until he was bleeding and raw. To rip his skin off if he had to—it would grow back, probably. To hide from the world because it hurt. He hurt. He needed to be alone.

To attempt suicide because what was the point anymore? He'd been living too long. Way too long.

"To the...shower."

* * *

The burning water cascaded down his back and over his head, enveloping his body in a haze of steam and soapy liquid. He'd been in the shower for quite some time and he was getting frustrated. _It wasn't helping._

What had he been thinking it would do anyways? Magically heal his battered body and stitch together his tortured mind? Not likely. He should have known better. The brunette had been getting lax lately, trusting the world, trusting the people around him. Trust was almost always a mistake in his opinion. It had rarely ever been nice to him. Lady luck was not on the former soldier's side in this life.

Maybe she would look upon him more kindly in the next life? Perhaps if he died his soul could start anew, free of burdens and darkness and despair. Free of the ever-consuming guilt constantly building stone walls around his heart.

He should end it.

Looking to his side he noticed there was a cabinet under the sink. Moving slightly out of the shower he reached over to open the little wooden door. There were various cleaning supplies, extra bottles of shampoo, and an incredible amount of toilet paper, but nothing he could use to aid in his death. It was frustrating. He'd at least hoped the older man had a razor—surely the elder had to shave right? He was a man, after all. But apparently not; or at least Eren couldn't find said shaving tool.

Shuffling back under the spray of searing water he slapped his hands over his mouth and screamed into them, crying. Salty tears leaked from his eyes and his chest was heaving with the sobs racking his body.

The intensity of the feelings coursing through his body combined with the overheated room was beginning to make him lightheaded. Removing himself from the shower after a few minutes he managed to calm himself down and shut off his mind. That was the only way he knew how to deal, with constant action and a numb mind.

Don't think, just act.

By keeping himself continuously busy he could avoid thinking, avoid feeling, avoid reality. The brunette just had to compartmentalize. He had to shove the memories to the back of his mind, throw up a reinforced steel wall around them, and never ever wander back into that particular area of his self. Seal off a part of his soul, and then he could continue.

By the time he exited the shower it had gotten dark. Levi and Hanji were down the hall somewhere; he could hear the voices and see a faint yellow light. They probably wanted to talk to him but he didn't want to talk to them. He felt like he never wanted to talk to anyone ever again.

He didn't know what to say.

What if they asked 'how are you'? That was a typical question many people used to start a conversation, and Eren wasn't sure he could force himself to spit out the necessary 'I'm fine'. Talking was a risk, a risk that meant he might accidentally rip open his bleeding wounds. The stitches holding him together right now were rough and rusted. They didn't properly cover the gaping wound festering inside his soul, and he really wasn't ready to threaten the very fragile state he knew he was in with talking to people.

It wasn't worth the inevitable pain that would resurface.

So the former soldier made his way to Levi's guest room and collapsed on a bed after locking the door. His head hurt so incredibly bad and there was a metallic taste in his mouth, though the brunette was sure it was only his imagination since he had thoroughly brushed every inch of his mouth multiple times. The drug which had taken a joyride through his veins had depleted his body and trashed his brain. He needed to sleep. He needed to eat and get some water into his system as well but that could come later.

First came sleep.

The next time he saw Levi, Hanji had already left. It was morning and the pale yellow sun was shining mutedly through the windows. Eren got up and went into the kitchen to find something to eat but after staring into the cupboards for an eternity he still couldn't find anything which he thought he would be able to handle eating.

The brunette was debating just making some tea when the older man walked in.

He froze.

The raven was looking at him, watching him, and Eren panicked. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? He felt lost, and if his life hadn't been a series of horrifying events and moments of devastating confusion then he would have crumbled right then and there. But that was exactly what his life had become, so he knew how to handle the uncomfortable atmosphere of that moment.

Continuing to make his tea, he turned off the stove and picked up the kettle. After pouring the steaming water into a sizable cup, the brunette limped over to the small table as gracefully as possible. He still had some pride left, after all.

Remembering the last time he had sat at this table, the former soldier burst out laughing. He knew he sounded almost hysteric, and quite possibly like he had lost it, but it was just _so damn funny_.

Or maybe it was more ironic than funny. The scenario wasn't exactly positive and he probably wasn't supposed to be laughing of all things but he couldn't rein himself in. The laughter was therapeutic, and for the brunette it was similar to crying. It felt like he was sobbing anyways, at least on the inside.

It was a dark kind of humor.

He was laughing at his own tragedy and the sound and emotions running through his body broke his own heart. It was like he was simultaneously exploding and imploding, drowning and burning, breaking and mending. Everything was jumbling together and falling to the metaphorical floor in an unrecognizable mess.

That's who Eren was now, at least until he could figure out how to move on from here. He was an unrecognizable mess. Which reminded him, he still had an addiction. Despite the fact that he was just ripped apart and drugged and left in a gutter bleeding and dying and broken, he still needed his hit.

The need was powerful and he could feel it tugging at his insides at that very moment, trying to pull him out the door and down into the underground to find the nearest dealer and just finally find some fucking _release_.

But then Levi was pouring himself some tea and sitting down across the table from him and that train of thought was temporarily tossed aside. The elder soldier wasn't looking at him, instead choosing to stare ferociously at the pristine tiles of the kitchen floor, but it was easy to tell that his attention was focused on the brunette.

Eren's hysteric laughter had died down but he was still letting out breathless giggles which were slowly turning into gasping sobs. He dropped his head on the table, not wanting the other to see him cry, but a few whimpers wrenched themselves out of his shivering body for the raven to hear.

He couldn't believe he was allowing himself to become such a wreck in front of a man he respected so thoroughly. He really wished his stupid fucking mouth would just shut its trap. Having a break down directly in front of this man was the last thing he wanted. But despite his best efforts his soul was shattered and his body grieved for it.

He was devastated, suicidal. But then he remembered how to handle the pain. He'd dealt with it before, when his family had died, when Mikasa and Armin had died, when he'd started living on the streets and fucking for money.

He had to get angry.

The burning anger would melt the sadness away. It would be forgotten under the intensity of the red-hot emotion. It was better to be homicidal than suicidal, as he had learned many times before. That was what he had done all throughout the war—directed his anger at the titans in order to forget his inner turmoil. His soul was fucked but at least the titans were dying. That had been his train of thought.

Finally managing to push down the urge to break down, he decided to break around instead. Taking in a deep breath he hardened his gaze and set his jaw. Picking up the mug the brunette had poured his tea into; he slammed down the rest and harshly set down the cup, nearly breaking it in the process.

Levi was eying him warily and it looked as if he was about to say something but Eren beat him to it.

"Fuck this shit. I'm leaving."

He needed his fix and damn if he wasn't going to get it and forget about all the bullshit that had happened this week. If he could just change his perspective on the whole situation then he knew he would feel better.

"Will you be back?"

Levi wasn't even going to try to stop him? Well, that's fine. Deep down all he wanted was for the older man to pull him into his chest and protect him from the harshness of the world but his captain was small and bitter and Eren was bright and broken and it would never work out like it did in the movies.

He'd heard once that yellow wasn't only a color for the happy but also the insane. He was only a child when he'd heard that but he had understood, even then. The brunette thinks that maybe he always was a bit lost in the head.

His soul hurt and his heart was breaking but his favorite color was yellow and if he was a season he'd be tsuyu—the rain in the summer. Crying but smiling, the brightness and warmth overshadowing the darkness of shadow and the cold of rain.

And if the brunette was honest with himself he thinks Levi would be fall. People often mistook him for winter but autumn was his true season. The raven was nostalgic and melancholy but he cut through the air like an autumn chill and he felt things deeply and colorfully like the painted leaves on the trees. He could be harsh like the windy pre-winter days yet he could also be beautiful and caring like the sun-tinted days of post-summer.

They didn't fit together well. The older man may have been through just as much as Eren but the raven handled it better. If he was upset he cleaned, if Eren was upset he fucked and he killed and he shot up. The brunette would only taint the raven with his insanity. Erwin, a strong, confidant, gentleman, was a better match for Levi than some insane, broken, drug-infested, little whore from off the streets.

So when he answered the question, though he would have given anything to say yes, to stay with the older man in his warm home with its peaceful atmosphere and pristine _everything_ , he instead said,

"No."

Then he turned around and walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to his life, because he'd rather be a metaphorical puddle of shit by himself than drag the beautiful man down with him on his way up.

* * *

True to his word, Eren didn't come back.

It was an entire two years later before he saw either Erwin or Levi again and honestly, that was probably a good thing. It had taken him a while to heal from 'the encounter', as he was calling it in his mind. The brunette didn't get therapy or drown himself in alcohol and drugs like most would. Instead he simply plastered a smile on his face and kept moving forward.

Fake it till you make it, they always say.

So that's what he did. He pretended to be ok and happy and acted like getting drugged and raped didn't bother him. He pretended to be fine until one day, eight months later, he woke up and he actually was. Over time it became so that it slowly didn't bother him as much anymore. The former soldier would never be the same and things were never going to be perfectly fine ever again— _time didn't move backwards after all_ —but eventually it just slotted into the back of his mind somewhere and was generally forgotten.

Sometimes things would trigger him and force him to relive moments or remember the pain he felt, but in general he really was fine. Eren was quite embarrassed though. About Levi. He was afraid to talk to the man again, not because he thought he would drag him down, but because he felt like he had made such a fool of himself the last time he had been with the raven. By breaking down like he had in front of the older soldier, he had opened himself up and shown the other such an emotional and vulnerable side of himself which he usually kept hidden. It felt wrong and just thinking about it made Eren shiver with distaste. He hated himself for it. So he avoided the parts of town he knew they frequented, he avoided the club he had seen them at, and he avoided Levi's house.

He so desperately wanted to see and be seen by that kindred soul, but he also was so terrified of what the man would say or think. It was definitely a feeling which he was unaccustomed to and since he didn't know how to feel about the incident and his actions, the brunette simply tried never to think about it.

But then here he was two years later and two years older and they were meeting again. This time it wasn't even in Sina, Trost, Maria, or any of the cities that existed before the war. After the last meeting with Levi he had continued working up the ranks of those who provided pleasure. He went from streetwalker to stripper to one of those people you saw dancing in a window. That was when everything changed. He had caught the eye of an escort agency one night when he was on a window shift—there were two types of shifts at that particular place, the one where you danced in the window and the one where you fucked in the back, and on that night he was on the first one.

The escort agency hired him on the spot and from then on his clients became either the incredibly rich or the ridiculously well known. It worked out well for a while until one of his regulars decided that they no longer wanted to share Eren. Normally at this point the agency would simply terminate the client's contract and no longer allow them to purchase his services but this man was not the average customer. He was high up in the underground, the head of an incredibly powerful yakuza group. So, unfortunately for the former soldier there was nothing that could be done.

The man simply lifted a finger and said 'mine' and all of a sudden Eren went from being a somewhat wealthy and independent escort to being the property of another human being. His life was no longer his own. The brunette had lost everything—his apartment had been sold, his job contract terminated, and his personal belongings destroyed.

They even moved him to another city since the yakuza, which now owned him, was one of the groups that had ventured out of the walls once the war had been over. They had ended up taking partial control of one of the beautiful ocean side villages which had popped up only a day's ride from Maria. On the surface it was a modern new city which attracted those interested in vacationing or exploring just a little ways outside the walls but underneath it was a city run by the yakuza. There was drug trafficking, human trafficking, and murders by the dozen. It was the type of place where people often disappeared when they had unpopular opinions.

And poor little Eren was right in the middle of it. He was the number one whore for the head of _fucking everything_. The brunette was expected to look like a million dollars of sensual desire as he followed the older man around and spread his legs like butter at his every whim. Sometimes he was even used as a party favor or as a sexual object to sweeten a deal with a business partner.

If he tried to escape or act out he was punished severely. He was left with a myriad of scars to go along with the tattooed on brand he received when he was first taken. The healing abilities the brunette had when he was younger had long since dulled and only served to heal his various injuries slightly faster than an average human. However, most of the time he wasn't abused too badly. They didn't want him looking like shit after all, he was the boss' top slut. He was expected to be beautiful.

Sometimes though, things got a little rough at parties. One night, in what Eren thinks was meant to be a gesture of power, his owner—and _fuck_ if he didn't absolutely abhor that word with a burning passion—forced him down, tied him to a table, and had him whipped and fucked at the same time. Supposedly, it made him tighter since he clenched up every time the whip snapped down onto his bleeding back.

Of course the next day was the one he happened to run into the two people he both never wanted to see again and desperately wished to run away with—aka fucking Levi and Erwin decided to check into the incredibly luxurious hotel and casino he was currently unwillingly living in the penthouse of with the yakuza boss.

Which was _totally_ great.

But not really.

Erwin was the first to recognize him, but Levi wasn't too far behind. In all honestly, the brunette hadn't expected them to recognize him at all. Since becoming what was essentially a slave he had been forced to let his hair grow and it now reached a little above his shoulders. That, in combination with the mandatory mascara and lipgloss and the midnight black silk yakuta adorned with a golden dragon on the back—the symbol of the yakuza—Eren was pretty sure he was almost unrecognizable. However, Levi and Erwin were not to be underestimated. They were ex-soldiers after all, and their eyes were sharp and observant.

Even though they were on opposite sides of the casino, with the younger soldier barely lit up by a few glowing lamps where he was standing near the edge of the water, they were able to spot him. There was a moment were everything seemed to freeze around them as the three stared each other down, and then Levi was rushing towards him and suddenly everything was happening way too fast.

All Eren can remember was the raven shouting, " _I thought you were dead! I fucking looked for you, you piece of shit!"_ with such a distinctly devastated look of hatred on his face and Erwin holding him back with an equally contemptuous rage scrawled across his expression in big bold letters. The brunette was sure someone must have dragged them away since they were making such a commotion but all he could remember was his heart breaking as he stood there motionless, unable to defend himself, unable to even cry.

They hated him. He had hurt them—unintentionally and against his will—but regardless, they hated him.

_Levi hated him._

The only person left in this world who he cared about couldn't even look at him without having a breakdown.

For the longest time Eren had just been surviving. After what had happened two years ago it had taken him a while to be ok, and he had been for a few months. But then the yakuza had taken him and his life fell apart. The former soldier had wanted to be ok so badly that until just then he had simply been trying to live on autopilot, numb and uncaring what they did to him—to his body. But this changed everything. Seeing those two again reopened wounds and carved out new ones. He couldn't be numb anymore.

He _couldn't_.

Because Levi hated him. Because Erwin hated him.

He wasn't sure what he had done but clearly he had hurt them deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have been so selfish and gone back instead of walking away from them. If he had none of them would be here now. It was all his fault if he really thought about it. Even the fact that he was forced into sex on a regular basis and _degradedusedabused_ _ **broken**_ was his fault.

If he hadn't been a titan, if he hadn't let Mikasa save his life, if he had protected Armin, if he hadn't been an addict or a whore or a selfish horrible disgusting excuse of a human being— _not even human really_ —none of this would have happened. Everything would have been perfect if he had never existed in the first place.

No, actually that was wrong. Because they needed him to end the war.

What should have happened was that he should have died. Months ago, years ago even. There was a perfect moment somewhere along the road for him to have kicked the bucket and he missed it. Where was it? Where did he go wrong?

At the end of the war?

No, it was when Mikasa died. He should have gone in her place. The war had ended only three weeks later. Yes, it should have been then. They hadn't really needed him anymore at that point. If he had died at that particular point in time then Mikasa and Armin would be alive and Levi and Erwin could have been happy together. It was all because of him that their lives were destroyed. And every second that he kept on living was another second of torture and destruction for others. Perhaps if he died then they could move on and be content. That's all he wanted in the end, for the ones he loved to be happy.

That was all he ever wanted and all his life that was the one thing taken from him. First his mother, then his father, then Mikasa and Armin, and lastly Erwin and Levi. Everyone he ever tried to make happy ended up dead or devastated. If he could just quit now then that would be the end of it. He could get out of the way and stop dragging others down.

He wasn't doing anything good with his life anyways. Nothing worth living for. He was just a puppet on a string with two holes. He danced to a tune and spread his legs and that was his life. Bend over, suck this, fuck that, look pretty, and don't forget who you belong to.

In other words, a waste of space. There were only two things he was good for and the titans were already extinct so what was he still doing here?

_Absolutely nothing._

* * *

Eight hours later and he was pulling himself out of the bed were the yakuza boss and his friend were still sleeping. He could feel dried semen on his thighs and crusted blood on his back. He could feel the warm sea breeze flowing in from the open balcony doors. Pulling on his black yukata, Eren reapplied his mascara, straightened out his hair from the mess it had been pulled into by four tugging hands, and walked over to the balcony.

They were in the penthouse, on the top floor of the casino. It was high up and the brunette could see the sun rising. It was beautiful and calming and the waves crashing on the shore directly below were breathtaking in the early morning light. Almost everyone was still asleep since people tended to have late nights when visiting places like these, and that meant the noise was minimal. He could hear birds chirping in the distance and the occasional sound from far away, but the height of the floor the brunette was on added a slight sound barrier and muffled the noises of the life below.

The silence was beautiful.

The sunrise was beautiful.

The white sand was beautiful.

And the ocean was especially beautiful as he climbed over the railing and propelled himself towards it.

He felt like he was flying.

He had always wanted to visit the ocean. Ever since Armin had read him that book as a child and told him about the far-off lands with the glowing light of the sun in his _blueblueblue_ eyes Eren had thought, ' _it must be magical to visit the ocean_.'

Though this wasn't what the two young children had envisioned when they had talked about it, it was the closest the brunette was going to get. And since Armin never got the chance, it was only right that he took this opportunity.

_It was only right._


End file.
